For some reason or other, the house was crowded that
night, and the fat Jew manager who met them at the
door was beaming from ear to ear with an oily tremulous
smile. He escorted them to their box with a sort
of pompous humility, waving his fat jewelled hands
and talking at the top of his voice. Dorian Gray
loathed him more than ever. He felt as if he
had come to look for Miranda and had been met by Caliban.
Lord Henry, upon the other hand, rather liked him.
At least he declared he did, and insisted on shaking
him by the hand and assuring him that he was proud
to meet a man who had discovered a real genius and
gone bankrupt over a poet. Hallward amused himself
with watching the faces in the pit. The heat
was terribly oppressive, and the huge sunlight flamed
like a monstrous dahlia with petals of yellow fire.
The youths in the gallery had taken off their coats
and waistcoats and hung them over the side. They
talked to each other across the theatre and shared
their oranges with the tawdry girls who sat beside
them. Some women were laughing in the pit.
Their voices were horribly shrill and discordant.
The sound of the popping of corks came from the bar.
“What a place to find one’s divinity in!”
said Lord Henry.
“Yes!” answered Dorian Gray. “It
was here I found her, and she is divine beyond all
living things. When she acts, you will forget
everything. These common rough people, with their
coarse faces and brutal gestures, become quite different
when she is on the stage. They sit silently
and watch her. They weep and laugh as she wills
them to do. She makes them as responsive as a
violin. She spiritualizes them, and one feels
that they are of the same flesh and blood as one’s
self.”
“The same flesh and blood as one’s self!
Oh, I hope not!” exclaimed Lord Henry, who
was scanning the occupants of the gallery through
his opera-glass.
“Don’t pay any attention to him, Dorian,”
said the painter. “I understand what you
mean, and I believe in this girl. Any one you
love must be marvellous, and any girl who has the
effect you describe must be fine and noble. To
spiritualize one’s age—that is something
worth doing. If this girl can give a soul to
those who have lived without one, if she can create
the sense of beauty in people whose lives have been
sordid and ugly, if she can strip them of their selfishness
and lend them tears for sorrows that are not their
own, she is worthy of all your adoration, worthy of
the adoration of the world. This marriage is
quite right. I did not think so at first, but
I admit it now. The gods made Sibyl Vane for
you. Without her you would have been incomplete.”
“Thanks, Basil,” answered Dorian Gray,
pressing his hand. “I knew that you would
understand me. Harry is so cynical, he terrifies
me. But here is the orchestra. It is quite
dreadful, but it only lasts for about five minutes.
Then the curtain rises, and you will see the girl to
whom I am going to give all my life, to whom I have
given everything that is good in me.”
